Harvesting Beasts is my Talent

Chapter 1

​"I truly crossed over..."

​Surveying the cluttered room, Mo Fan let out a heavy sigh as he processed the flood of new memories.

​He was a soul from Earth, but not the Earth of old. In his original timeline, a 5060 meteorite strike unleashed a viral plague that toppled civilization and turned the masses into shambles. Mo Fan had perished five years into that apocalypse, swallowed by a relentless tide of undead.

​The phantom sensation of teeth tearing through his muscle was still sickeningly vivid.

​"At least... I’m breathing again."

​Inspecting his new limbs, Mo Fan felt a surge of genuine relief. He had inhabited the body of a young man who shared his name, though this new reality was arguably more cutthroat than a zombie outbreak.

​In the year 3200 of the Cetral Galaxy Era, the world had been punctured by spatial rifts. Monstrous entities poured through, immune to the world's nuclear arsenal due to a mysterious atmospheric interference that fried high-tech electronics. Conventional lead and steel were useless against beasts that could level mountains.

​Humanity was on the brink until they discovered Yuan Qi.

​By channeling this energy, humans could evolve into Warriors, breaking past mortal limits to fight back. However, this path required innate talent. High talent meant limitless potential; no talent meant a life of insignificance. Thanks to the few who could cultivate, humanity managed to carve out fortified bases in the wasteland.

​"A world of both tragedy and fortune," Mo Fan murmured.

​In his previous life, humans stayed fragile while the monsters grew stronger. Here, there was a fighting chance.

​"The only problem is..." Mo Fan stared at his palms, his expression darkening. "This body is a blank slate. No talent at all."

​In a world ruled by the strong, lacking talent was a death sentence. The previous owner of this body had spiraled into despair and eventually withered away, allowing Earth's Mo Fan to take his place.

​Click.

​The door swung open. A young woman stepped in—roughly eighteen, striking and elegant, though her gaze was as cold as frost. She offered a curt "I'm back," dropped a bundle on the table, and retreated to her room without a second glance.

​Mo Fan searched his mind for her identity: Shen Lang.

​Their families had been close-knit warrior comrades who had betrothed the two when they were toddlers. Two years ago, a joint expedition claimed the lives of both sets of parents. The original Mo Fan, blinded by grief, blamed Shen Lang’s parents for the tragedy and projected that hatred onto her.

​Despite his hostility, Shen Lang had moved in to care for him. While her own martial talent flourished, she spent her days hunting dangerous beasts just to bring back nutrient-rich meat, hoping to artificially boost Mo Fan’s constitution.

​The original owner had met her kindness with insults and accusations.

​"He didn't know how good he had it," Mo Fan thought, shaking his head. Coming from a wasteland where betrayal was the norm, he found her loyalty staggering. "Well, I'm the one in the driver's seat now. I'll live this life properly."

​Stung by hunger, Mo Fan approached the table to prepare the beast meat she had brought home. But as his eyes landed on the carcass, his vision flickered.

​Ghostly text manifested in the air above the creature:

​[Target: Level 1 Mid-Grade Beast – Purple Electric Sable!]

​[Status: Harvestable!]

​[Begin Extraction?]

​"Is this... a 'Cheat Code'?"

​"Or perhaps, my own latent ability manifesting?"

​Staring at the shimmering script, Mo Fan didn't panic. Five years of surviving the zombie apocalypse and a trip through the fabric of time had forged a mind of tempered steel. He analyzed the situation with cold precision.

​"The prompt appears over the beast, but I didn't see anything like it over Shen Lang earlier."

​"Does it only target monsters? Or..." He squinted at the carcass of the Purple Electric Sable. "Can I only harvest from the dead?"

​With limited data, he couldn't be certain. But in a world this cutthroat, a hidden edge—whatever its nature—was a godsend.

​Mo Fan decided to put it to the test.

​He stepped toward the sable, reached out his hand, and commanded internally: 'Harvest!'

​Immediately, a golden radiance coalesced around his palm, reaching into the creature's remains. When his hand returned, it cradled a flickering arc of violet electricity.

​[Harvest Successful!]

​[Acquired: Inferior-Grade Thunder Attribute Talent!]

​[Would you like to integrate now?]

​"A Thunder Attribute!" Mo Fan’s eyes widened in shock.

​In the centuries since humanity began refining Yuan Qi, a rigorous classification system had emerged. Most Warriors only possessed "Neutral" physiques, ranked from Weak to High. However, those born with Attribute Talents were the true elites.

​Beyond the basic five elements (Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, Earth) lay rare variants like Wind, Light, and the devastating Thunder.

​An attribute didn't just boost raw power; it granted an affinity that colored every strike. Earth increased defense and mass; Wind granted supernatural speed. At higher levels, these talents could even unlock innate "Spells" or "Techniques."

​An Attribute Warrior was inherently superior to a Neutral Warrior of the same rank. And now, Mo Fan held the power of lightning in his grasp.

​"Integrate!" he commanded without a second thought.

​Boom!

​It felt as though a thunderbolt had detonated within his chest. Searing arcs of electricity surged through his veins, lashing at his muscles and marrow. It was an agonizing process of destruction and rebirth.

​Mo Fan ground his teeth, refusing to let even a whimper escape.

​Fortunately, the storm subsided as quickly as it had arrived. The agony drained away, replaced by an intoxicating sense of lightness. His heart thundered like a war drum, pumping empowered blood to his extremities. Faint purple sparks danced across his skin before fading into his pores.

​He exhaled, drenched in sweat, and focused his will.

​Zzt! A jagged spark of violet light crackled between his fingers.

​"It worked!" Mo Fan grinned. He could feel a transformative strength coursing through him. He needed to know exactly how much he had changed.

​Since Shen Lang was a dedicated cultivator, the apartment featured a private training room equipped with a Strength Testing Machine. It was a massive, two-meter-tall monolith powered by energy crystals—an expensive piece of hardware usually reserved for high-ranking military academies.

​On the display, a previous record remained: 8,365 lbs.

​"The limit for a peak Martial Disciple is 10,000 lbs," Mo Fan noted. "Shen Lang is hitting over 8,000... she’s right on the doorstep of becoming a true Warrior."

​The hierarchy was clear: Martial Disciple, Warrior, Martial Master, Grandmaster. To reach the Warrior realm before twenty was the mark of a prodigy. At seventeen, Shen Lang was a monster among peers.

​"Now, let's see where I stand."

​Mo Fan took a deep breath, planted his feet, and threw a raw physical punch at the target.

​Thud!

​The machine hummed, and the digits stabilized: 1,527 lbs.

​Mo Fan was stunned. This was his raw physical strength without any training, purely from the talent's passive enhancement.

​"Now, with the Thunder Attribute..."

​He narrowed his eyes, channeling the crackling energy from his core into his fist. He swung again, his arm trailing a blur of violet light.

​BANG!

​The machine groaned under the impact. The numbers blurred, spiraling upward past the 3,000-pound mark before finally locking in:

​3,089 lbs.

​"Three thousand pounds!" Mo Fan’s heart raced. "That’s the strength of a Mid-Stage Martial Disciple!"

​The Thunder Talent was terrifying. It hadn't just given him a base of 1,500 lbs; it practically doubled his output when activated. And this was only an "Inferior" grade talent.

​What if he could find Low-grade, Mid-grade, or even higher?

​Driven by a new sense of possibility, he rushed back to the kitchen and looked at the Purple Electric Sable again.

​"Can I harvest more than once?"

​He extended his golden palm once more. 'Harvest!'

​The light dipped into the carcass again, this time pulling out a small, glowing crimson bead.

​[Harvest Successful!]

​[Obtained…]